


Q, Me?

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Other, i do not claim to be all that knowledgeable about star trek canon, some sort of gay bullshit, they're half-klingon but there wasn't really a character tag for that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-18 00:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16106747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A reluctant, newly-minted Ensign is in need of company, and an omnipotent being is in need of a reason to be anywhere but home.





	Q, Me?

Lorvek has always had a hard life.

Not a life necessarily defined by hardship, of course- they had grown up one of many brats in a fairly large, well-to-do clan (looked down upon, of course, what mongrel wouldn't be, but they were lucky to be born into one of the more lax families on the matter), and on their arrival to Starfleet Academy they had excelled, earning good grades in all- or most- of their subjects and graduating with ease. At least, academic ease.

It's just that these thing always seemed to be wreathed in layer upon layer of _difficulty._

At home, they had always been the odd one out. Every failing, blamed on their heritage and their refusal to confirm to certain.. expectations. Not Klingon enough, never Klingon enough, everyone had always said- they tend to suspect that's the reason nobody raised much objection when they announced they were applying to the Academy. Their clan had been glad to get rid of them.

But once they got there, nothing seemed to change. It wasn't exactly just that they weren't fully human- there were Vulcans here, and other humanoid aliens, but they tended to be a little more easily popular. Lorvek weren't as Klingon as most, sure, but there hadn't been all that many Klingon officers in the history of the Federation, and their half-human status didn't do much to soften that. They were always too big, too scary-looking, too quick to anger. A little too Klingon. They haven't sparred with another real person instead of a holodeck construction in too long- any win they would ever achieve against a member of another species had always been blamed on an unfair advantage of strength.

The fallacy that a Starfleet employee's time in the Academy is the best years of one's life is surprisingly common among senior personnel. That.. had not been their experience. 

But all that's behind them now. They've graduated, been appointed as an Ensign Security Officer on a nice big starship, a good opportunity to rise through the ranks. A real Klingon would never sit around in their off time and bellyache about something as soft and petty and _human_ as loneliness, anyway.

Not that they're actually lonely. Of course they aren't.

Maybe they should just go start up their training program again. 

They're just standing to make their way for the door to their quarters when a voice comes from behind them, warm and slightly amused. "Holodeck? _Again?_ I have to say, Lorvek, I'm surprised your commanding officer hasn't repremanded you about this little habit yet-" 

About halfway through the word 'habit' Lorvek has grabbed the figure and slammed him against the wall, a forearm at his throat, ready to tap their combadge and announce an intruder, but before they can even get a proper look at their face he's just.. gone. Vanished from their arms. 

That same voice, now with a slightly smug tone to it, sounds from a few feet behind them. "Ye gods, Lorvek, that's no way to greet a new friend! No wonder nobody talked to you in the Academy if that's how you said hello." Lounging in a chair- _Lorvek's_ chair- is a young man in the kind of clothes they've mostly only seen in Earth history books, rough blue trousers (jeans? They're called jeans, right?) and a short-sleeved white shirt. His dark hair is combed back, and he's grinning up at them, an infuriatingly amused look in his warm brown eyes.

He's. Very handsome, actually. Wait, no, stop that. Bad. 

"I just wanted to have a conversation with you, obviously. Have a seat! There a particular drink you want? Anything at all, really." Lorvek simply growls and grabs their phaser from their hip, setting it to stun and aiming it directly at the center of the man's chest. "You are going to explain, very fast, who you are and why you're in my private quarters, and furthermore why you are on the starship. If your explanation is sufficient, I will simply report this to Security. If it is not, or if you do not explain, I will be forced to call for backup and deliver you to the ship's brig."

He raises his eyebrows for a second, looking incredulous, before sighing and leaning back in the chair. "Oh, well, I suppose I have no choice but to comply. Poor old me. If you must call me something, I suppose you can call me.." He makes a face, looking vaguely disgusted. "Q."

Lorvek lowers their phaser slightly, eyes widening. On most occasions, if they were to, say, stub their toe, or loose track of something important, they usually let out an expletive in Klingon- for a wide variety of reasons, but mostly just out of habit.

This realization, however, has shaken them enough that what passes their lips next isn't Klingon at all.

"Son of a bitch."

**Author's Note:**

> These characters aren't even related to Star Trek at all, but this is an AU I'm doing now I guess?? Enjoy???
> 
> I do watch Star Trek regularly, but I don't pretend to be an expert on the lore. I don't really have the ability to store that much information or the patience to try, so if I get something wrong, Don't Call Me Out!


End file.
